


Healing Touch

by MissYuki1990



Series: Prompts [26]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Implied Mpreg, M/M, Slash, creature!Harry, explicit content, implied past-rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 14:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2584496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissYuki1990/pseuds/MissYuki1990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“Dad, you’re late…”</em><br/>Before Stiles could finish his complaint, John interrupted him speaking in a hurry, “Son, call the whole Pack. Something just literally fell from the sky in the direction of the preserve. If I’m not wrong it landed somewhere close to the Nemeton. I’m making my way there.” He didn’t give Stiles a chance to answer, quickly ending the call and getting back into his car.<br/>Not caring about regulations, John turned the car around and sped down the road towards the preserve, cursing under his breath.<br/>He knew that he shouldn’t have been thinking that everything was going well.<br/>He might as well jinxed them.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Touch

Based upon several anonymous requests.

 **Disclaimer:** I claim no rights to the characters of Teen Wolf and Harry Potter. They belong to their respective creators.

 **Warnings:** slash, explicit content, violence, blood, creature!Harry, mention of past rape (nothing explicit), mention of Mpreg

**cut**

Sheriff Jonathan Stilinski, John for the few people that were close to him, sighed heavily as he closed the file of the case they’ve just closed, and started to get ready to go home where his son was waiting for him with dinner.

He could hardly wait to come home and finally relax a bit, knowing that their city was finally lulled into a peaceful existence. Ever since he found out about the supernatural, solving crimes which happened in Beacon Hills County practically came down to thinking of a good enough story to cover up the fact that they were done by one mythological creature or another. It honestly helped that he had the full cooperation of the local werewolf Pack his son was a part of and his son’s best friend led as the Alpha.

Sure, just like every normal human, John would have preferred if no crime happened at all, but if he could choose he would rather have it that he could solve the crime than leave it open, or even worse, put it on ice so to say. It helped that a member of the Pack was a Banshee.

Pulling his jacket on to ward off the chill of winter, John closed the door of his office and made his way out, nodding at Deputy Parrish who came to take the nightshift. Getting into his car, John made his way home feeling the tension which came with the job easing into the back of his mind.

There were very few people on the streets since the hour was late, and John dared go just a bit faster.

“What the…” he floored the break when something entirely too strange caught his attention and quickly got out of the car, looking up at the sky.

Falling straight towards the preserve, leaving a burning trail behind, was something that resembled an ignited ball. It looked like a meteor, but the trajectory of its fall was wavering. John actually _heard_ the explosion followed by flaring of strange green flames around the falling object, and without a second thought the sheriff pulled out his phone and pressed number one on speed dial, calling his son.

_“Dad, you’re late…”_

Before Stiles could finish his complaint, John interrupted him speaking in a hurry, “Son, call the whole Pack. Something just _literally_ fell from the sky in the direction of the preserve. If I’m not wrong it landed somewhere close to the Nemeton. I’m making my way there.” He didn’t give Stiles a chance to answer, quickly ending the call and getting back into his car.

Not caring about regulations, John turned the car around and sped down the road towards the preserve, cursing under his breath.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been thinking that everything was going well.

He might as well jinxed them.

**cut**

John fought hard against the need to hop in his place as his son and the Pack gathered around him, some of them looking half asleep and others somewhat excited.

“What happened?” Isaac asked, seemingly happy that something was going on. John remembered Stiles mentioning that Isaac and Scott were getting a bit restless since nothing has happened in Beacon Hills for a few months now. John supposed that the teens were too used to fighting for their lives to accept the peace which settled over them.

While a part of him wished that they didn’t feel like that, another part of him was happy that they were ready for anything.

“Do you smell that?” Everyone looked at Derek when he spoke up, finding the oldest werewolf among them sniffing the air discreetly.

“Smell what?” Isaac asked while Scott copied Derek, and Stiles, Kira and Lydia looked at Scott when the young Alpha frowned.

“Nothing’s burning, but there’s a faint smell of fire in the air,” Kira spoke up, her brain finally changing gears.

“We’ll spread out,” Stiles started doing what he did best - organizing. “You said it fell in the direction of the Nemeton. We’ll keep an eye on one another, but spread out. We’ll find it faster that way.” He took his backpack and gave a flashlight to Lydia, Kira and John, hogging the last one. “Let’s go.”

Without further talking, the group entered the preserve, spreading out into a line, but sticking close. Scott, Isaac and Derek were sniffing the air, listening to every sound they could catch, while John, Stiles, Kira and Lydia scanned the ground.

It was a moonless night and only the stars gave off a weak light, making it very hard for them to move through the forest, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief when the forest started to thin, meaning that they were getting closer to the Nemeton.

“Guys!!” Everyone ran towards Isaac when the teen called out to them, and they followed him as he hurried forward, only to halt in their step when they came upon the clearing surrounding the Nemeton.

Except it wasn’t a clearing anymore.

As a matter of fact there was no more Nemeton either.

They were standing on the edge of a crater. The trees surrounding it were scorched and strange green flames were still licking against them sporadically. In the middle of the crater where once the Nemeton was now lied a small, black lump.

“That’s impossible,” Scott whispered and John, Stiles and Lydia looked at him, only to realize that Scott wasn’t the only one in a clear state of shock.

“What is it?” John asked, looking at Derek who was closest to him.

“I can hear a heartbeat,” the blue eyed werewolf muttered in astonishment, and John looked at the black lump in the middle of the crater.

“Dad, wait!” Stiles cried out, but John didn’t listen, rushing down into the crater, but keeping his distance. He was aware that the others followed him, especially since Derek came to stand to his right and Stiles to his left, and John glanced at them both before he took a careful step forward.

A pained whimper made John hurry, and he fell on his knees, realizing that they were staring at a human being. His hands hovered over the prone form as the creature twitched and seemed to curl in on itself, and John looked up when Scott came to kneel across from him.

The young Alpha nodded at John minutely, and the sheriff returned in kind, and with Scott’s help, he turned the prone form on its back.

It was a man, and not even the dirt and scorch marks could hide the fact that he was beautiful. Raven black hair stuck to a sweaty forehead, falling to a pointed chin, around an oval face with high cheekbones, a button nose and cupid-bow lips. What little skin could be seen was creamy white, and as John quickly scanned the body dressed in loose, black, cotton clothes in search for any obvious injuries, he found that the man had a lithe, yet strong build.

Another pained whimper snapped John out of his observation in time for him to see the opening of ethereal viridian orbs, clouded with pain.

“Hey,” John soothed tenderly, placing his left hand on the creature’s forehead causing the raven tresses to fall back to reveal pointed ears, “it’s alright.”

Chapped lips parted, revealing eyeteeth more pronounced than in normal humans, and a sorrowful trill, hoarse and strained escaped the pained creature.

“Guys, look!” Lydia hissed, pointing at the man’s stomach, and John’s guts lurched when he saw a sluggishly bleeding, gapping wound.

John looked at the man’s face when a trembling hand wrapped around his right wrist, and those amazing eyes dove into John’s. Feelings that were not his own passed over John, horror, fear, betrayal, agony, pain and sorrow, and the sheriff was left breathless when he realized that the creature was projecting his feelings with a simple touch.

John glanced at Scott, knowing that his eyes were full of tears, and the young Alpha was on his feet immediately, already calling Deaton.

“We’ll fix you right up,” John comforted the wounded man as he tugged his hand out of his weak hold, immediately wrapping it around the elegant trembling fingers. “You’ll be alright.”

“Dad,” he glanced up at Stiles when his son placed a comforting hand on John’s shoulder, and the sheriff could see that Stiles looked pained. Taking a look around, he saw Isaac holding Lydia close while Derek had his arms wrapped around Kira.

John could faintly hear Scott talking to Mellissa telling her to meet up with them at Stiles’ place before a soft, sparrow-like trill made him look down at the man. He realized that he was brushing his free hand through mated tresses for some time now, and it seemed to have helped somewhat if the lack of pain in the man’s expression was any indicator. “It’s alright,” he whispered, seeing those out-worldly eyes slipping closed no matter how much the creature fought to keep them open. “Sleep. We’ll take care of you.”

“Mom and Deaton are on their way to your place,” Scott informed John, and the sheriff nodded.

Glancing at Stiles, he offered a small smile to his son and the teen moved back, allowing John to gather the light body into his arms. Something in John’s chest clenched when a small hand fisted on his chest, and the beautiful man rested his head on John’s shoulder, letting go of a sleepy trill and a sigh as exhaustion finally claimed him.

They made their way back in silence, constantly glancing at the sleeping creature cradled like a child in John’s arms. He appeared small and delicate, and they kept wondering what he was and what brought him to Beacon Hills.

But they knew that they would have to wait for answers.

They only hoped that they would get them.

They only hoped that the creature whose emotions they felt as though they were their own survived.

**cut**

Everyone looked up when Deaton and Mellissa walked into the living room of the Stilinski household looking drained, their clothes covered in smudges of blood.

“Is he…”

“He will be alright,” Deaton interrupted John, and the sheriff let go of a sigh of relief, followed by the others. “The wound was not deep, although to a human it would have been lethal.”

“Did you maybe figure out what he is?” Stiles asked as they took seats again and Scott ran off to the kitchen to bring some water to his mentor and mom.

“I will have to do some research. Right now I cannot say what he is. He is not a vampire, that is for sure,” Deaton answered, smiling at Scott gratefully when the Alpha handed him a glass of water before taking a seat beside Mellissa. “As a matter of fact, I don’t believe I have ever run into another of his kind.” He looked at Mellissa with a pointed glance, giving her a sign to speak.

“When I was cleaning him up I found something strange,” she said and Scott frowned at her. She didn’t appear to be frightened. If he were to take a guess, Scott would say that she was amazed. “He has strange tattoos on his back, a pair of folded wings, but the tattoo doesn’t feel like a normal one upon touch,” she looked down at her hands rubbing her fingers together as though she was remembering the feel of touching the tattoos, “I felt as though I was touching the feathers of a bird.”

“Feathers?” Lydia leaned forward in interest and Mellissa nodded.

“And the sounds he made,” the nurse whispered with a faraway look, “even while Deaton was cleaning his wound and he was in obvious pain, the sounds weren’t whimpers and grunts. They sounded more like…”

“Like the trills of a bird?” Derek offered and Mellissa nodded hurriedly. “We heard them when we found him.”

“Did you feel anything?” Scott asked and Mellissa looked at him with a thoughtful frown.

“I - I think I did,” she murmured and looked at Deaton. “He woke up for a few seconds. He has really beautiful eyes.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” John asked with a lopsided smile and Mellissa smiled in agreement.

“He took my hand in his,” she spoke with a smile full of melancholy, “and it was like - like a feeling of gratefulness and reassurance washed over me, like I was enveloped in warmth.”

“So for now we know that he definitely isn’t human, he can project emotions onto others, and he probably speaks _bird_ ,” Stiles drawled sarcastically, although no one could blame him for his bitterness.

They all learned to be wary of the unknown, and the man sleeping in the guestroom was definitely unknown to them.

“You should all go home,” John spoke up and stood. “There is nothing more we can do. Stiles and I will keep an eye on him.”

“I’ll stay, just in case,” Derek offered and John nodded at the werewolf gratefully, suppressing a snicker when he saw Derek and Stiles exchanging a glance, knowing that the two were seeking an opportunity to spend the night together, although John _still_ didn’t know why the two had yet to come out as a couple when everyone seemed to know, but he was more than happy to let the two go at their own pace. If he learned anything it was that he could trust Stiles to tell him the truth, no matter how long it took, especially after the whole Nogitsune fiasco. They were closer than ever, and John knew that Stiles would tell him if there was a need to do so.

“We’ll stop by tomorrow. Call us if he wakes up,” Scott said as everyone stood up to leave, exchanging wishes for a good night and warning one another to be careful on the way home.

“I’ll check up on him. You two go to bed,” John said to Derek and Stiles and left the room, not waiting for either to speak.

There was an unexplainable desire in him to see the creature recovering in his home. When he held the small man, John felt something he thought was lost when his beautiful wife died. He felt his heart fill with warmth he thought disappeared with the loss of Claudia, a protectiveness he had only ever felt for her and Stiles.

John closed the door after walking into the guestroom, and stopped in his tracks staring at the man sleeping peacefully in the one person bed. He looked so small and fragile, like a child begging for protection. Trying to make as little noise as possible, John walked over to the bed and took a seat, reaching up to tuck a strand of pitch black hair behind a pointed ear. A hum passed lightly parted, lush lips and John felt a whisper of warmth pass down his back.

“Fallen from the sky,” he whispered, not really aware that he was speaking. “Are you an angel?” He caressed one pale cheek with the back of his hand, smiling when a content sigh passed those perfect lips. John looked around the room and found a chair in the back.

Not making a sound, he walked over to the chair and brought it to the bed. Taking a seat in it, John crossed his arms and legs and settled to watch over the still form bathed in the light of the stars breaking through the window above the bed.

A small smile tilted John’s lips when the sleeping creature trilled as he nuzzled into the pillow, head tilting towards John, and the sheriff chuckled under his breath, truly, honestly hoping that the beautiful man was not an enemy.

Although how someone who radiated such peace and comfort could ever be evil was beyond him.

**cut**

It has been three days since the mysterious creature was brought to John’s home, and he had yet to wake up. There was a tension in the air among the members of the Pack, because Deaton wasn’t able to find out what the man was, and they all wanted answers.

John had to admit that he wasn’t too worried. He understood why the teens and Derek were tense, they lived through a lot, but he also knew that while they did feel the echo of the sleeping man’s feelings, only he and Mellissa actually touched him, and she admitted to John yesterday when she and Deaton came to check up on the man’s wound, that she honestly doubted the man would turn out to be an enemy.

“He felt _good_ , John,” she told him, “he felt truly, honestly _good_.”

So the third day found John sitting beside the man again while Stiles went out with Scott and the others. John came back from the nightshift in time to see Stiles off to school, and after catching a few hours of sleep, he went back to what was quickly turning into a hobby of his, or a slight obsession.

He honestly couldn’t help it.

Even though the man was asleep, John couldn’t help but sit beside him, quietly watching over him. The wound on the man’s stomach was completely healed, and all that was left now was to wait for him to wake up and give them the answers they so longed to hear.

While he couldn’t explain his feelings even to himself, John wanted to be there when the man woke up. He knew the others would possibly overwhelm him with questions, and the protectiveness John felt towards the sleeping creature just wouldn’t allow him to let the teens have a go at the man before John made sure he would be alright.

He couldn’t explain it, and he gave up on trying.

He only knew that he wanted to be there when their sleeping charge woke up.

And he hoped he would be.

**cut**

John was startled awake by a hardly audible moan, and he realized that he fell asleep watching over the guest of his home. He shook his head to clear the sleep from his mind, and quickly took a seat on the bed, unconsciously holding his breath as he watched those amazing eyes open.

“Easy,” he whispered, gently brushing a hand through the man’s hair, “take it easy. You’re safe. Everything’s alright,” he comforted warmly, heartbeat quickening as viridian orbs focused and looked at him. “Everything’s alright.”

Full lips parted, but nothing but a choked up breath left them, and John quickly took the bottle of water he prepared for himself off of the nightstand before helping the man drink some, murmuring soothing words and warning him to go slow.

John took a seat on the bed again, watching as a red tongue peaked out to lick lush lips, and striking emerald eyes opened to look up at him.

“Thank you,” the voice which passed those beautiful lips was quiet and strained, and the letters sounded foreign on the man’s tongue. “Thank you for helping me.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” John answered, offering a reassuring smile. “You are lucky I saw you fall and that my son is a member of a werewolf Pack. We managed to find you in time to help you.”

Cupid-bow lips tilted up into a grateful smile, “I am sorry for worrying you,” he whispered. “I will forever be grateful to you.”

“Do you need anything? Are you feeling alright?” John asked.

“Weak,” the man answered in a breathless murmur, “and tired.”

“Then go back to sleep,” John comforted kindly, placing his left hand over the man’s clasped ones and giving them a reassuring squeeze, “You’re safe here.”

The man smiled at John, eyes already slipping closed, “What’s your name?”

John chuckled, doubting the man would remember, but answering never the less, “Jonathan Stilinski.”

“Harry,” came the muttered answer, “Harry Potter.”

John smiled and brushed his free hand through Harry’s hair, the other one still covering Harry’s hands.

“Sleep, Harry. Nothing can harm you here,” his words fell on deaf ears since Harry was already asleep again, and John realized his heart was fluttering in his chest.

Something he hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages.

 _Harry Potter_ , he thought as he watched the sleeping man with a smile full of fondness, _I’m going to take care of you, Harry. You just get better soon._

**cut**

John looked up from the report he was reading when a sigh broke the silence. Immediately closing the file, John smiled at Harry who was looking at him with a calm countenance, obviously not afraid at all.

“You’re awake,” John murmured, and those perfect lips tilted up, ethereal eyes filling with warmth. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I do,” Harry’s voice was stronger, although it was still quiet and soft, and John couldn’t help but notice that it was quite melodious.

“Do you know where you are?” Harry shook his head and John nodded, “You are in Beacon Hills, California,” he considered saying ‘planet Earth’, but opted against it, although when the beautiful man frowned in confusion, he thought he should have.

“Beacon Hills, California?” Harry wondered in a murmur, “There _is_ no Beacon Hills in California.” John frowned in confusion, but before he could voice it, Harry continued speaking, “I must have traveled further than I thought I would.” Still confused John opened his mouth to talk, but Harry beat him to it, “I suppose it is not strange for me to have traveled through dimensions,” a tone of amusement colored Harry’s voice, and John gaped.

“D-dimensions?” He choked out and Harry let go of a trilling chuckle, nodded his head as he slowly sat up, making John forget about his questions. “Take it easy! You just…”

“It’s alright,” Harry assured him quickly, head tilting to the side with a calming smile, “I am completely healed.”

“I know, but you shouldn’t strain yourself. You _fell_ from the _sky_!”

Harry laughed at the incredulous expression on John’s face, a sound which made something in John’s chest clench, a trill which reminded John of small bells chiming in the wind.

“I do suppose that it would be strange to you,” he spoke, one delicate hand rising to cover those smiling lips, and John let go of a long breath straightening with the right hand fisted on his hip and the left brushing through pepper blond, short hair.

“Do people often fall from sky in your dimension?!” John asked incredulously, drawling another chiming laugh from Harry who shook his head.

“I do not believe that is normal in any dimension,” he snickered and John took a seat in his chair, staring at Harry with fond amusement.

“Well, fuck me,” John blushed furiously when he realized what he said, and Harry chuckled.

“It’s alright, John, they _do_ curse in my old world as well,” Harry teased lightly, and John opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of something to say. John’s eyebrows furrowed a bit when he remembered something, and Harry looked at him with a knowing smile, “You thought I wouldn’t remember.”

“You can read thoughts too?” John choked out and Harry winced, although it was hardly visible.

“That is not something I can help, and you are,” he blushed slightly and bowed his head, plucking at a loose thread in his cover delicately, “you are projecting your thoughts quite freely,” he finished in a whisper and John huffed.

“Well we don’t have an abundance of mind readers here, so you’ll have to tell me how to stop _projecting_. Some of my thoughts aren’t…”

“It’s alright,” Harry interrupted him, and John stared at the strange being with a confused, thoughtful frown. A light blush covered Harry’s cheeks and he bowed his head with a small smile tilting perfect lips. “Your thoughts - it has been a while since I’ve heard such kind sentiments.”

John’s lips parted as he scowled in confusion, worry gripping his heart when Harry wrapped his arms around himself, delicate hands grabbing fistfuls of John’s shirt Mellissa dressed Harry in after she cleaned him up.

Before John realized when he was doing, he was sitting beside Harry, his bigger hands covering Harry’s smaller ones as he bowed forward a bit to try and look into Harry’s eyes.

“What happened to you, Harry?” John asked in a whisper. “What brought you to this world?”

Harry chuckled wetly and looked in John’s eyes with a sad smile. “You are strangely accepting of me considering your world is so different from my own.”

Leaving the question of how Harry knew about John’s world for later - _he probably saw it in my mind_ , he thought - John focused on what Harry had said, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere which settled between them, “After finding out that werewolves exist and that my son’s best friend is one, and having my son possessed and practically _puked out_ by an evil spirit, there is really little I don’t believe in,” he reassured Harry warmly, and the beautiful creature chuckled, surprising John when he leaned closer to him.

“What happened to you, Harry?” John repeated the question and Harry sighed, bowing his head in what appeared to be shame. “You don’t need to tell me,” Harry’s head snapped up and John smiled at him kindly, knowing that the lost man in front of him could read his sincerity from his mind. “I just want you to know that you are safe here, and that no one can or will harm you again.”

The smile full of bliss which decorated Harry’s beautiful face made John’s heartbeat stutter, and he blushed furiously when Harry snickered at his thoughts.

“Thank you, John, although we will have to talk to your son and the Pack before concluding that.”

John hated to admit that he completely forgot about Stiles and Scott, and if his thoughts hadn’t told that to Harry, he was sure the wince which twitched on his face would have divulged his thoughts.

“Dad?! I’m home!”

“Speak of the devil,” John muttered after Stiles announced his arrival, and Harry snickered while John moved back a little, both listening to Stiles’ quick footsteps as they approached the guestroom.

“Dad, is he…” Stiles stopped in his tracks, flailing a bit in shock when he saw that Harry was awake and that John was sitting beside him on the small bed.

“Hello, Stiles,” Harry greeted and the teen stilled completely, lips parted in shock.

“You’re awake!” Stiles shook himself out of the shocked state, “Wow! That’s - that’s _great_ ,” he finished weakly, clapping his hands as he shifted his weight, and Harry chuckled.

“I’m not here to harm you or your friends and family, Stiles,” Harry spoke warmly, although his eyes shone with amusement, and Stiles choked up while John chuckled.

“Harry is a mind reader,” John spoke dryly and Stiles looked at him, “apparently we’re _projecting_.”

“Quite loudly so, might I ad,” Harry laughed, “although that might be just me because where I come from most people are quite proficient in hiding their thoughts.”

“Where you come - wait a second,” Stiles rubbed his face with his hands, before he clapped them in front of his chest, keeping them connected as he stared at Harry, and the mysterious creature’s eyebrows cocked up.

“You’re thoughts are so quick,” he murmured, head tilting to the right. “How do you do it? How do you think so quickly?” John frowned when Harry’s voice grew duller and he slowly started to get out of bed.

Stiles kept glancing from his dad to Harry, who was slowly walking towards Stiles, eyes glimmering eerily, hands slightly raised.

“Poor, poor child,” the creature’s voice grew deeper, and Stiles froze in his place when tears filled those amazing eyes, “never finding rest, never stopping to think, to analyze…”

Completely unable to move Stiles could do nothing but gasp for breath as Harry’s hands, warm and soft, cupped his face, thumbs caressing Stiles’ cheeks with a tenderness he only experienced from his mom and dad.

Stiles choked up when compassion, sorrow, kindness and understanding washed over him, enveloped him like a pair of soft wings, and he unconsciously took a hold of Harry’s thin wrists.

John stood beside them and watched not knowing what was going on. Stiles was trembling, and tears were streaming freely down his pale cheeks, and Harry was wiping them away tenderly, muttering something under his breath.

A single tear trailed down Harry’s right cheek and he took one final step closer to Stiles. “Everything will be alright,” he breathed out and leaned up to lay a gentle kiss on Stiles’ forehead.

Time seemed to still for the human teen, and John held his breath as Harry slowly moved back. Stiles’ eyes opened slowly, filled with amazement and shock, and he looked down at Harry who was looking at him with a tender smile.

“That is better,” he whispered.

“Harry!” John rushed forward when Harry swayed, and the Stilinski men wrapped their arms around him, slowly lowering the curious being on the floor, as emerald eyes slipped closed and Harry lost consciousness.

“What happened?” John asked, brushing black tresses back from Harry’s face, glancing up at Stiles who stared at Harry in amazement.

“It stopped,” he whispered and John stilled, staring at Stiles with a confused frown.

“Son, what stopped?” John asked, watching as Stiles raised his hands, noting the lack of the usual trembling. John looked at his son’s face, and Stiles returned his gaze, bottom lip quivering as the corners tilted up.

“He - somehow - I can…” he tried to speak but he couldn’t. “Dad, I’m - I’m _fine_ ,” he stressed out, letting go of a hysterical chuckle. “It’s - It’s finally calm!”

“What is?” John blurted out, glancing down at Harry, who was fast asleep within his hold.

“My mind, dad,” Stiles’ voice broke, and John’s lips parted in shock. “My ADHD - it’s gone.”

**cut**

Everyone stared at Stiles in amazement.

The whole Pack was summoned to the Stilinski house, and they were now sitting in the living room, staring at the human teen in stunned contemplation.

They noticed it immediately, how Stiles wasn’t twitching anymore, how his eyes weren’t glancing every-which way constantly, how his hands weren’t trembling. They noticed that his shoulders were straight, and that he appeared calm - _too_ calm in comparison to the spastic teen they had seen earlier that day.

“So,” Scott cleared his throat and tried again. “So what? He kissed you and your ADHD just _disappeared_?”

“I don’t know _what_ he did, Scott,” Stiles said and smiled - actually _smiled_ , not grinned or laughed loudly. “The fact is that my ADHD is _gone_.”

“That’s unheard of,” Lydia murmured in contemplation.

Far be it that they weren’t happy for Stiles, they were all _thrilled_ , but they were also worried. They’ve seen the human teen go still once, and it still made their stomachs lurch when they’d remember that.

“I was there, guys,” John spoke up, smiling at his son, “whatever Harry did, it helped Stiles.”

“I healed him.”

Everyone jumped to their feet and turned towards the doorway to find the mystery man standing there, right hand on the doorframe and standing just an inch away from the threshold.

“Harry! You shouldn’t be out of bed!” John was by Harry’s side in a second, and everyone except Stiles stared in fascination as Harry laughed lightly, but accepted John’s aid in reaching the couch, taking a seat without an argument.

“I am alright, John. Healing Séaghdha’s mind took a bit out of me.”

“Healing _whose_ mind?” Isaac blurted out in confusion, and while Stiles blushed furiously, Harry merely cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh!” he covered his lips with delicate fingers and looked at Stiles apologetically, “I’m sorry. I forgot that you prefer to be called Stiles.”

“Well, first and foremost, I have no idea how you know my given name, and the reason I prefer being called Stiles is that no one can pronounce my name right,” the human teen drawled, shooting a venomous glare at Isaac, daring the Beta to tease him.

“That is a good, strong name,” Harry nodded. “You were named after your grandfather on your mother’s side, right?”

“How do you know all that?” Stiles asked in pure curiosity and Harry’s cheeks tinged red a bit.

“I’m sorry, but when I healed your mind I’ve seen some of your memories. Usually I would have asked for your permission first, but you see I” he hesitated, wringing his hands in his lap and looking at the floor, “I hadn’t been able to use my powers for quite some time now. After I ran away from - from _home_ \- I - I can’t seem to get a grip of them. I suppose it will take some time for me to get my powers under control.” He raised his hands and rubbed circles in his brow, lips thinning and eyebrows meeting. “Otherwise I might just go insane with hearing everyone’s thoughts.”

“You can read minds?” Scott frowned and Harry nodded, lowering his hands to clasp them in his lap.

“One of many things I can do, and the one hardest to control, especially around people who don’t know how to shield their minds,” he sighed, trying to hide the pain which was obvious in the lines of his face. “I don’t even know how long it has been since I could use my powers like this.”

“You said you ran away from home,” Mellissa pushed gently and Harry nodded, gifting her with a small smile. “And, excuse me for being blunt, but would you mind telling us what you are?”

Harry chuckled, one delicate hand covering lush lips, and Mellissa blushed furiously. “You may find it strange, but I am a Hybrid; half-phoenix, half-human.”

“A what?” Lydia asked with wide eyes, full of interest, and Harry smiled at her.

“I was human once, a long time ago,” Harry eyes filled with melancholy as he started speaking, and everyone shivered when feelings that weren’t their own washed over them, “There was - there was a war in my world. I fought in it with several dear friends, and - and I _died_ ,” his voice lowered to a whisper, and he didn’t even notice John taking a seat beside him and placing a comforting hand on Harry’s back, while the others stared at him in amazement. “I didn’t even notice that I had changed until my 18th birthday. I was - I was engaged then to a woman,” he hesitated, his eyes pressing tightly shut. “I seem to have forgotten her name,” he murmured, and John exchanged a glance with Stiles before he looked at Scott finding the young Alpha staring at Harry with a compassionate gaze.

Harry took a deep breath and continued speaking, “I don’t remember much. I remember pain, and I remember faces. Unfamiliar faces. I remember feeling betrayed and hurt. I - I remember a man ordering me to call him Master. I…” his hands flew to his mouth and John wrapped his arms around him.

“It’s alright,” he shushed Harry gently, “you don’t have to tell us. You’re safe here. They can’t find you here.”

Tears trailed down Harry’s cheeks, falling on his trembling thighs, glimmering green before they soaked into the blue fabric of the jeans Harry wore.

“ _Monster_ , they called me,” his words were muffled by his hands, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, shaking within John’s tender hold, “ _Freak, Servant, Pet_ and then,” he choked up and leaned against John, “and then someone called me by my name, and - and the only thing I could think of was that I had to get away, that I had to run, had to find someplace safe,” his voice has long broken, and he shivered almost violently, and John looked at everyone gathered in the room with pleading eyes, not knowing what he was asking from them, just knowing that he couldn’t leave Harry alone.

“You’re safe here,” Scott was the first to speak up. Harry stopped breathing as his eyes snapped open, and he stared at Scott in shock. The young Alpha smiled at him reassuringly, “Just like the sheriff said, you are safe here. Whoever harmed you they can’t find you here. If we understood right, this isn’t even your dimension. They can’t follow you here, right?”

Harry shook his head, tears drying as he tried to smile for Scott, “To my knowledge, they can’t.”

“Good,” Scott nodded. “Then there is nothing you have to worry about. You’re safe here.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispered and unconsciously leaned closer to John who, to everyone’s surprise, smiled down at Harry tenderly.

“The only question that remains is where you’ll be staying,” Mellissa spoke kindly.

“He can stay here,” everyone was surprised when John and Stiles spoke at the same time, even Harry, but the father and son merely shared a grin, glad that they were thinking the same thing.

“It seems we have that covered,” Derek commented and Stiles’ grin grew as he looked at the older man.

“I’ll call in a few favors to take care of the legal stuff,” John said and Harry looked up at him.

The hybrid would have been doubtful of everything that was going on if he wasn’t able to read everyone’s thoughts.

They were truly, honestly ready to accept him and help him, all of them only hoping that he was truly as good as they hoped he was.

Harry closed his eyes and bowed his head with a sigh, “Thank you, all of you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

**cut**

It was not often that it happened that Stiles and John arrived home at the same time. Usually one of them would try to come earlier to prepare something to eat - or in John’s case order take out - and they would take that time to talk and catch up.

When it happened that they both arrived at the same time, Stiles would immediately grab his phone to order pizza already in the kitchen making coffee for his dad.

This time he had no time to do either, because the moment they stepped into the house, the most amazing scent filled their senses, and they were baffled that the hallway was…

Well, for the lack of a better word, _pristine_.

The old wood looked spotless, and even the _stairs_ were glimmering. The floor looked clean enough to _eat_ off of it, and the Stilinski men exchanged a glance, taking their shoes off before they padded into the kitchen, freezing mid-step when they found Harry and Derek in there, with Derek at the table looking entirely too relaxed and Harry taking something that smelled amazing out of the oven.

“Erm,” Derek and Harry looked at Stiles and John when the younger of the two spoke up, “dad, I _think_ we’re in the wrong house.”

“Hello!” Harry greeted them cheerfully, placing their lunch on the stove and covering it with foil, “We didn’t expect you home so soon.”

“Erm, Harry?” John took a careful step forward, looking around the sparkling clean kitchen. “Did you clean the _whole_ house?”

Derek cleared his throat to hide a laugh while Harry bowed his head with a furious blush, brushing his fingers through his hair, “I - I woke up early and didn’t know what to do. I didn’t touch your bedrooms though!” He hurried to say, and Stiles and John exchanged a glance.

“I don’t think our house has been this clean since mom died,” Stiles commented and John hummed in agreement.

“You didn’t have to do this, Harry. We’re not making you work your stay,” he said and Harry smiled brightly at him.

“I know! That’s why I did it,” he answered cheerfully, and the three gaped when Harry snapped his fingers and one of the cupboards opened. A moment later four plates levitated over to the table, followed by forks and knives, while Harry walked over to the fridge and took out two beers and two sodas, “Why don’t the two of you go change while Derek and I set everything for lunch, hm?”

“We’ll be right back,” John said, still too amazed by everything to say anything else, and Stiles followed suit, both climbing the stairs side by side.

“We’re keeping him?” Stiles piped out, trying to sound careless.

“We’re keeping him,” John muttered and Stiles grinned, the two parting at the top of the stairs each going to their own room.

They were back in the kitchen within minutes, drooling at the sight of a roast served with baked potatoes and fresh salad.

“Don’t worry, Stiles, I’ve made it all safe for your dad,” Harry spoke up before Stiles could voice his concern, and the human teen gifted Harry with a grateful smile as he and John took seats.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, Derek,” John commented, grinning at finally eating something that’s not pasta, take out, or something microwaved.

“I came to drop off a few things Stiles asked me to find for him, and Harry roped me into staying,” Derek answered with a small smirk and Harry snickered.

“You weren’t exactly against staying, Derek,” he chastised the werewolf teasingly, glancing at John seeing that he too saw the way Stiles and Derek kept glancing at one another. “Besides,” Harry continued after he swallowed a bite, “where there’s food for three there’s always food for one more. I never like throwing anything away.”

“This is too delicious to throw away,” Stiles mumbled around a bite, quickly stuffing more into his mouth much the everyone’s bemusement.

“All joking aside, this really is amazing,” John complimented, and Harry smiled brightly.

“I’m glad you like it! In all honesty I was afraid that I’d forgotten how to cook,” the hybrid confessed and John gifted him with a small, understanding smile.

“You’re awesome, dude,” Stiles muttered, going for seconds, and Harry chuckled with fondness radiating from every line of his face.

“I’ll be happy to cook for you whenever you want. Just tell me what you like and I’ll make it. It’s not like I have anything else to do right now,” Harry said and Stiles grinned brightly at him, and Harry chuckled, “Yes, I can make lasagna.”

“Yes!!” Stiles cheered, making John and Derek roll their eyes and Harry laugh lightly.

“Never the less, and while I love a home cooked meal just like everyone else, I don’t want you to overwork yourself, Harry, _or_ feel that you need to do this for us. Stiles and I always switched when it came to cleaning and cooking.”

“I know, John, and it’s alright,” Harry assured him, although John didn’t appear convinced. The hybrid tilted his head to the side with a small smile, and eyes glowing with warmth, “I promise, Jonathan, I would love cooking for the two of you. For once I know that you would appreciate it, and you have to admit that coming home to an already cooked meal feels good. You’ve given me a place to stay and you’ve already contacted your friends about making me a legal resident of Beacon Hills. You’ve already given me so much even though you hardly know me. If there is any way for me to help you and the Pack, I will be more than happy to do so.”

“Harry…”

“John,” the emerald eyed man interrupted the sheriff and leaned forward, and John felt something in his guts clench when Harry smiled at him tenderly, although his eyes filled with memories of pain, “I have no idea how many years I’ve spent as mindless slave used for - for a lot of things. I was never asked to do anything. Whatever they did to me, whatever they have given me, it locked my conscience inside my mind, and I was less than a puppet on a string for Merlin knows how long. I could only take whatever they’ve thrown at me. Believe me when I tell you that taking care of you and Stiles, helping the Pack - it would - it would make me happy.”

“If you say so,” John whispered, neither seeing the way Derek looked at Stiles, watching as the human teen glared at the table.

He didn’t need to have Harry’s ability to read minds to know what Stiles was thinking. While they hardly knew Harry, they could all see that he was essentially _good_ , and oh so _pure_. If what little he told them was any indicator, whoever enslaved him did horrible things to him. Derek just couldn’t understand how someone could do that to a person like Harry, although considering everything he lived through, he shouldn’t be surprised.

Stiles’ thoughts were going in much the same direction as Derek’s, and he made a decision in his heart, seeing the way his dad acted around Harry, in a manner so similar and yet on such a completely different level compared to the way he acted around Stiles’ mom. Stiles shared a glance with Derek and saw in his secret love’s eyes that he has seen it all as well, even though Derek didn’t know how John was around Claudia.

“Stiles, why don’t you and Derek go to your room while I help Harry clean up the kitchen?”

“John, you don’t need to…”

“I insist!”

The two were so engrossed in their bickering that they failed to see the way Stiles blushed furiously, his dad’s words making him remember that no one was supposed to know yet about him and Derek. Glancing at said werewolf, Stiles found him staring right back at him, and his heartbeat stuttered, lips tilting into a loving smile, Derek returning in kind.

“Come on, lovebirds, Harry and I will clean up!” John called out teasingly.

“Dad!!” Stiles cried out, staring at John in horror while Derek looked close to choking on air.

“Oh come on, the two of you wouldn’t be more obvious if you went around shouting you were together. Now, off you go!” John waved Stiles off as he carried the dirty plates to the sink while Harry gathered the pots and cutlery, obviously resigned to John’s help.

Derek and Stiles exchanged a glance, and came to an immediate decision.

“Call us if you need us!” Stiles called out and grabbed Derek’s hand as they rushed out of the room, not willing to test their luck with John.

The sheriff looked down at Harry when the smaller man came to stand beside him, placing the dirty dishes by the sink where John was already washing a plate.

“They thought you wouldn’t agree with their relationship,” Harry said as he accepted the plate from John to dry it, and glanced at the taller man when he snorted.

“Like I said; I’ve known that they’re together practically since the beginning. There was always chemistry between them,” Harry chuckled at John’s dry drawl. John sighed and his eyes filled with memories, feeling Harry’s comforting gaze on himself. Even though he knew Harry could hear his thoughts, he still continued speaking, wishing to get it all off of his chest, “Claudia was almost 8 years younger than me, so I can’t really say anything about the age difference between them. Derek’s a werewolf and he so obviously loves my son which means that he will be there to protect him, just like he has been until now, and I can’t say anything about the both of them being men since I’ve had a few boyfriends in my time. If it lasts, no one will be happier than me. If not,” he shrugged, feeling Harry smiling at him, not needing to see it.

“They _do_ love each other very much,” Harry confirmed it and if John had any doubts about Stiles dating Derek they disappeared in that moment. “Would it help if I told you that Stiles is Derek’s Mate? I don’t believe Derek told that to Stiles, even though your son is suspecting it. Derek believes that he should give Stiles the choice to stay with him or not without know about him being Derek’s Mate, because werewolves mate for life.”

“There is such a thing?” John asked with a raised eyebrow and Harry laughed lightly, nodding with an amused smile at John’s shocked expression.

“Of course there is, John, even though it’s really hard to find the one meant for you,” John looked at Harry fully and found the fragile looking creature staring at something only he could see with a faraway gaze. “Most people never find their destined Mate. We are all so desperate to have someone love us that we latch onto the first person that gives us a semblance of love in fear that we would eventually end up alone if me miss the chance that is given to us, and then when - _if_ we find that special someone, that one person truly meant for us, we are bound by responsibilities to stay with the one we chose. Creatures have it easy in that aspect. We _feel_ our chosen Mates. Humans? Unfortunately, humans have to settle for the ones they choose.”

John swallowed, knowing that Harry was right. While he _did_ love Claudia, and his heart broke when he lost her, he _knew_ that they weren’t really meant to be. They stayed together because of Stiles, and later because of Claudia’s illness, and the reason John blamed himself so much, the reason why he never sought out anyone after Claudia’s death, was that he blamed himself in a way. He couldn’t help but feel that if he could only love her more than he did, if he gave her more than he had given her, she would still be with them.

He knew his thoughts were irrational and silly, there was nothing he could do to cure her, but the guilt just wouldn’t go away.

“You need to let go, John,” he looked at Harry, and his heart skipped a beat. The raven haired beauty took John’s left hand between his smaller ones, and gently, almost reverently, traced the wedding band with his thumb, “you couldn’t have loved her more than you did. She had a happy life and she died knowing that she was loved. You gave her family. You gave her happiness. She wouldn’t have found it otherwise.”

John swallowed difficultly and nodded, and Harry smiled up at him, “What about you,” he asked, clearing his throat when his voice came out strained, “have you found your Mate?”

The sadness which filled Harry’s eyes at John’s question made the sheriff feel as though a cold wind passed down his spine, and he wanted to bite his tongue. Harry took the plates in his hands and brought them over to their proper place.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s alright,” Harry interrupted him and turned around, a smile decorating his lips although his eyes were closed, but John didn’t need to look into them to know that they were filled with tears, “and yes, I’ve found my Mate, but they would never want me.”

John frowned, the fact that Harry thought his Mate wouldn’t want him seeming ridiculous, “You can’t really believe that, Harry,” he spoke up and Harry sighed, bowing his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I am used goods, John,” he whispered and the sheriff froze in horror, “even if my Mate didn’t know what was done to me, I would never be able to let them touch me. Not after they - not after everything they did to me.”

“You were…”

“Used,” Harry finished for him, looking in John’s eyes, his own somehow _dead_ , “my mind may have been sealed away and my will taken from me, but the fact stays that others touched me, others had me. I cannot imagine my Mate wanting me.”

“Harry…”

“I’m sorry, John,” Harry shook his head as though he was trying to chase away bad thoughts, “I’m going to my room. I’ll see you later,” with that said Harry all but ran out of the kitchen, leaving John standing in his place.

_I cannot imagine my Mate wanting me._

Harry’s words echoed through John’s head, his heart clenching uncomfortably within his chest, although he couldn’t exactly say why.

_I cannot imagine my Mate wanting me._

John’s hands clenched into tight fists as something akin to rage filled his heart, and he was glad Harry was not there to hear his thoughts. How could someone not want Harry? How could the beautiful man think that someone wouldn’t want him?

Even though John hardly knew him, there was not a single _atom_ in his body which had even the _slightest_ doubt that Harry would not be a perfect partner to anyone.

_I cannot imagine my Mate wanting me._

John cursed under his breath, not able to wrap his mind around Harry’s low self-esteem.

And John came to a decision.

He would prove to Harry that _anyone_ would be happy to have him.

He didn’t know _how_ but he would find a way.

He would find a way.

John made his way to his room with heavy steps and hunched shoulders. As he passed beside the guestroom, he stopped in his tracks, his heart filling with sorrow, and soul feeling heavy, when a beautiful voice, loaded with sadness reached John’s ears.

Somewhere in the corners of his mind, he knew Stiles and Derek could hear it too, and he wondered if they felt as weighed down by it as he did. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, John continued on his way, the sorrowful verses following him like a haunting memory.

_The April night is still and sweet_  
 _With flowers on every tree;_  
 _Peace comes to them on quiet feet,_  
 _But not to me._

_My peace is hidden in his breast_  
 _Where I shall never be;_  
 _Love comes to-night to all the rest,_  
 _But not to me. (1)_

**cut**

A tsk made John look up from the files he was reading and he found Harry standing in the doorway, hands fisted on a slim waist and a displeased frown marring those beautiful features, making John feel like a child whose parents caught him watching TV long after bed time.

“You are incorrigible,” Harry muttered and turned on his heel, and not a moment later John heard the hybrid puttering around the kitchen. Minutes later, John took a deep breath when the scent of freshly made coffee filled the air.

A smile tilted his lips when Harry walked into the room with two mugs of coffee, placing one in front of John before he took a seat beside him, taking a look at the files John had spread over the whole table, placing his own mug in front of himself.

“It’s one of my old cases which has recently been reopened,” John explained before Harry even asked, and those amazing emerald eyes glanced at him before dexterous fingers gathered a few papers, and viridian orbs scanned them. “Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, thrice is a pattern,” John leaned back in his chair with a sigh, tiredly rubbing his face with his hands. “Four times means we have a serial murder case.”

“And what is _six_ times?” Harry murmured as he laid the papers he took back into their proper place and took a few others.

“I have no idea,” John admitted and took the mug into his hands, taking a sip of the warm coffee, moaning at the perfect taste. How Harry knew what kind of coffee John liked was beyond him. Never the less he was more than grateful to the hybrid for making it for him since John was too immersed into the case to get up and make it for himself.

“You are projecting again, John,” Harry warned him with a small smile and John chuckled.

“Sorry,” he said and straightened. “I just can’t find the pattern. Stiles looked through the files yesterday, and he was at a loss as well. If things continue like this I’ll have to ask Lydia for help, and I don’t like doing that. While she would be more than happy to help, I don’t want to expose her to this more than she already experienced.”

“Lydia is a Banshee, John,” Harry spoke, moving on to another set of papers, “death will follow her wherever she goes.”

“I know,” John muttered. “I guess I can’t help but see them all as teenagers even though I know what they’ve lived through.” Harry laid the papers on the table and looked straight in John’s eyes.

“I was 11 when I first saw someone die,” John didn’t expect Harry to speak, let alone say something like that, leaving him shocked. “The man was possessed by something vile and corrupted. Touching him burned his skin. He would have killed me if I hadn’t taken his life. I was 14 when a boy just a few years older than me was killed because he was seen as inconsequential. I was 17 when I killed the man who killed my parents and tried to kill me numerous times. I cannot say that I am happy with everything I did, but if it ever again came to me choosing between killing to save myself and those I care about or letting those I love get hurt, I would kill again without a second thought. Fate doesn’t choose age, John. Once you are touched by the hand of Destiny you cannot go back. Lydia is a Banshee and she can help you solve this case. Don’t let the fact that you see her as a young girl stop you from preventing any more deaths. You will find yourself living with more regrets than necessary.”

John gulped and looked away from Harry’s eyes, knowing the hybrid was telling the truth.

“I know,” John rested his forearms on top of the table, holding the mug between his hands only to look up when Harry placed his left hand on John’s right forearm, and John found himself target of those soulful eyes.

“I understand that you don’t want to put her through this, Jonathan,” Harry spoke in a soothing, tender voice, the pressure of his hand on John’s forearm, it’s warmth and subtle strength sending shivers up John’s spine. “But she will be happy to help. Believe me.”

John smiled and covered Harry’s hand with his left, patting it caringly.

“I’ll tell Stiles to bring her over tomorrow so I can ask her for help,” he conceded and Harry gifted him with a small smile.

“Now,” the raven haired man stood up, “off to bed with you. If you’re lucky you’ll get at least a few hours of sleep.”

“Harry,” John dragged out Harry’s name, although he didn’t resist it when Harry took his hand into his smaller one and pulled him along, turning all the lights on the first floor off with a flick of his wrist.

“I won’t hear it. You haven’t had more than 3 hours of sleep for the past three days. You’re going to collapse if you don’t get enough rest,” Harry pulled John into the master bedroom, let go of his hand and then pushed him towards the bathroom, “ now get ready for bed.”

John laughed as he entered the bathroom, quickly brushing his teeth, deciding to take a shower in the morning. He didn’t expect Harry to still be in his bedroom when he came out though.

“Harry, what are you…”

“Making sure you actually go to bed and not back into the living room the moment I turn my back on you,” Harry cut him off as he straightened from preparing John’s bed for the man, and John couldn’t help but chuckle.

He got into bed and actually blushed when Harry tucked the covers around him, his embarrassment making Harry smile brightly.

“Will you sing me a lullaby too?” John drawled dryly and Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

“Do you want me to? I don’t think I know any lullabies, but I’m sure I can think of something to sing,” he answered teasingly, and feeling quite mischievous himself, John answered.

“I’ve heard you sing the other day, so I’m sure you can think of something,” he immediately regretted saying that since Harry’s eyes darkened for a second and the lithe body of the beautiful man tensed up. “Harry, I was just teasing you, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright,” Harry assured him and something in John coiled when the beautiful man took a seat beside him on the bed, “and I cannot blame you for not knowing that singing is not something I can just _do_.” John frowned and Harry sighed, “I am half-phoenix, John. Phoenixes sing with their hearts, not with their minds. To hear the song of a phoenix means to feel what they are feeling. You’ve already felt my emotions when I touched you the first time we’ve met. If I were to sing for you, you would feel them much stronger than you did when I merely projected them onto you.”

“I know,” John whispered, taking Harry’s hand into his, “I felt it the first time I heard you sing.”

Harry licked his lips, drawing John’s gaze to those rosy, lush petals.

“Sing something for me, Harry,” John asked warmly and Harry looked into his eyes.

“I don’t want to impose my feelings upon you,” the half-phoenix whispered, and John gifted him with a tender smile.

“You could never do that,” he murmured and Harry’s eyes slipped closed, making it seem as though he was resigning himself to his fate.

Just as John thought Harry would refuse to sing for him, a light melody rolled off of those perfect lips, and John’s heart filled with something he couldn’t name.

_The free bird leaps_  
 _on the back of the wind_  
 _and floats downstream_  
 _till the current ends,_  
 _and dips his wings_  
 _in the orange sun rays_  
 _and dares to claim the sky._

_But a bird that stalks_  
 _down his narrow cage_  
 _can seldom see through_  
 _his bars of rage._  
 _His wings are clipped and_  
 _his feet are tied_  
 _so he opens his throat to sing._

A part of John wanted to tell Harry to stop singing when the half-phoenix’ feelings washed over him. Harry’s eyes were closed and the moonlight seeping through the window bathed him into mercury light, making him look ethereal, like the mythical creature that he was.

Sorrow and pain gripped John’s heart, mixing with hope and love. Melancholy danced with nostalgia, and it was all enveloped in relief, underlain with surrender and weight of loss.

_The free bird thinks of another breeze,_  
 _and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees,_  
 _and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn,_  
 _and he names the sky his own._

_But the caged bird stands on the grave of dreams,_  
 _his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream,_  
 _his wings are clipped and his feet are tied,_  
 _so he opens his throat to sing._

John’s eyes slipped closed as exhaustion claimed him, and he didn’t see Harry open his eyes to look at him.

In the morning John wouldn’t be sure if he imagined the tender touch of loving fingers on his brow or if Harry truly did caress him, but in that moment he hardly cared. John was already falling asleep when Harry sung the last verses, words which Harry said a few days prior echoing through John’s mind as he succumbed to the sweet call of Morpheus.

_I cannot imagine my Mate wanting me._

Harry smiled sadly as John relaxed and his breathing evened out, and he leaned over the sleeping man, murmuring the rest of the song against John’s brow.

_The caged bird sings_  
 _with a fearful trill_  
 _of things unknown_  
 _but longed for still._  
 _And his tune is heard_  
 _on the distant hill,_  
 _for the caged bird_  
 _sings of freedom. (2)_

**cut**

“I still can’t believe that you’ve never had fries in your life,” Stiles muttered, obviously still in shock and Harry chuckled, popping a fry into his mouth.

John took up a double shift at the station because it appeared that a good case of flu was going around so Harry and Stiles were left to their own devices. Derek had to take care something concerning his family, Scott and Kira went away for a romantic getaway over the weekend, Lydia was spending time with her family and Isaac was… well, _somewhere._

Which meant that Stiles and Harry had to find some way to entertain themselves, so Stiles suggested that they go out since Harry, in the three weeks he was already there, had yet to go further than the closest convenience store and the nearest park.

At that moment they were sitting in a booth of Stiles’ favorite fast food diner with two tickets for _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_ in Stiles’ pocket. The teen was horrified when Harry admitted that he never went to the movies, and Stiles was determined to correct that. He already planned a movie night for Harry and him, and the hybrid was so obviously excited about everything that Stiles could _swear_ he was trilling.

“I never had a chance,” Harry explained with a shrug and Stiles shook his head.

“We’ll have to make a list of everything that you didn’t do,” he said and Harry looked at him with surprise in his amazing orbs, “You have a chance to live your life to the fullest, and we’ll make sure that you do everything you want to do if its possible.”

The smile which decorated Harry’s beautiful features brought a small blush to Stiles’ cheeks, and he bit into his burger to try hide it, although he knew that it made no sense since Harry could read his thoughts.

“Thank you, Séaghdha,” he looked at Harry from under his eyebrows, enjoying how his real name sounded spoken with such care. Only his mom and dad knew how to say his name right, and ever since his mother died he insisted everyone, even his dad, called him Stiles. It used to hurt too much.

It appeared though that Harry didn’t just heal Stiles’ ADHD. His mere presence seemed to bring peace to Stiles. Not only to him. His dad was so obviously enraptured by the hybrid that it was amazing to Stiles how John had yet to make a move on Harry. Sure, it’s only been three weeks, and to their understanding Harry passed through a lot so it was only normal that they took everything slow, but Stiles wasn’t known for his smarts for nothing.

He could see that Harry cared about his dad greatly. He and Derek listened in to Harry and John that day Harry first made lunch for them, and both were saddened when they figured out what Harry meant with his words. Both he and Derek understood, and it amazed Stiles that his dad was either too oblivious or too overtaken by his desire to protect Harry that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.

“Stiles?” The human teen was shaken out of his thoughts and looked at Harry, cursing when he realized that he has been thinking quite clearly.

Obviously clear enough for Harry to hear everything if the sad expression on Harry’s face was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and a sad smile tugged on Harry’s perfect lips.

“There’s nothing you should be sorry about, Séaghdha,” Harry assured him and sat back in his seat. He looked so small and fragile in that moment that Stiles wanted to take a seat beside him and wrap him up into a big warm blanket and hide him from anything and everything that would want to bring harm upon the raven haired man. “Your dad - I…”

“Don’t even _think_ about saying that you could never be good enough for my dad,” Stiles cut him off and Harry’s eyes widened at the certainty which soaked Stiles’ every word and radiated from every fiber of his being, every thought which passed through his mind. “I don’t know what you passed through, and I can understand that you aren’t ready for a relationship, but don’t you _ever_ think that you’re not good enough or that you’re dirty or something equally stupid. You didn’t choose to be used. You didn’t choose to serve whoever did that to you. You’re innocent and _good_ , and nothing will make me or anyone else think otherwise. The only thing stopping you is yourself, and believe me when I tell you that me, my dad and everyone will be there every step of the way until we convince you of that. You’re safe here. No one will ever harm you again. No one will ever try to use you or abuse you again. And when my dad gets his head out of his ass and finally sees what’s right in front of him, you’ll see that he will be _more_ than happy to have you. We’re both already thrilled to have you in our lives, Harry. You’ve already done so much for both of us. You have time. Take it to heal. When you’re ready, you’ll see that everything will work out.”

Harry stared at Stiles with wide eyes and parted lips, taken aback by the confidence Stiles spoke with. “Thank you, Séaghdha,” he breathed out finally, a tear trailing down one pale cheek to fall on the table, glimmering like a drop of emerald before fading into nothing, not even leaving a wet spot behind. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

Stiles blushed furiously and shook his head, “Never mind that. Come on! I want to get some popcorn before the movie starts,” he jumped to his feet and pulled a laughing Harry out of the diner. “Did you ever have popcorn?” He squinted at Harry, and the hybrid laughed, wrapping his hands around Stiles’ right forearm, making the teen blush slightly, but smile never the less.

“Yes, Stiles, I’ve had popcorn before.”

“Great! What about corn-dogs? Did you ever eat a corn-dog? I’m gonna buy you a corn-dog!”

Harry could do nothing but laugh as Stiles walked straighter, seeming not at all concerned about the looks everyone was shooting them, and Harry was honestly surprised when Stiles tugged his arm out of his hold and threw it over Harry’s shoulders as though to shield him from the strange glances aimed at the small, raven haired man.

Harry sighed and leaned against Stiles, not missing the huge grin that covered Stiles’ handsome face.

“I would love that.”

**cut**

_Now at last I have come to see what life is,_  
 _Nothing is ever ended, everything only begun,_  
 _And the brave victories that seem so splendid_  
 _Are never really won._

_Even love that I built my spirit’s house for,_  
 _Comes like a brooding and a baffled guest,_  
 _And music and men’s praise and even laughter_  
 _Are not so good as rest._

_\- Sara Teasdale, ‘At Midnight’_

**cut**

When John came back from the nightshift and walked into the quiet house, he made his way into the living room only to stumble upon a sight which, while very peculiar, warmed his heart greatly.

Realizing his arrival wasn’t noticed, John leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed over his chest and smiled, watching and listening to Harry who was singing in a loving, tender tone as Stiles slept with his head on Harry’s thigh, the hybrid brushing dexterous fingers through the teen’s wild hair.

_And some day you’ll know,_  
 _That nature is so, this same rain that draws you near me_  
 _falls on rivers and land,_  
 _on forests and sand,_  
 _makes the beautiful world that you’ll see_  
 _in the morning._

John rested his forehead on the doorframe, recognizing the song almost immediately. He didn’t know how Harry knew it - it probably had something with him being half-phoenix - but Claudia used to sing that song for Stiles when their son was just a baby boy afraid of storms and thunder.

It made John’s heart clench, but not uncomfortably so.

_Little child, be not afraid,_  
 _the storm clouds mask your beloved moon,_  
 _and its candle-like beams_  
 _still keep pleasant dreams._  
 _I am here tonight._

_Little child, be not afraid,_  
 _the wind makes creatures of out trees,_  
 _and the branches to hands,_  
 _they’re not real, understand,_  
 _and I am here tonight._

If John closed his eyes he could see it. He could see his wife cradling Stiles in her arms as the child struggled to stay awake. Claudia had a beautiful voice. She was a beautiful woman both inside and out, and John loved her. He truly did. He knew she loved him as well.

They were happy, and that happiness was taken from them. She was taken from him and Stiles much too early, leaving Stiles without his loving mother, and leaving John with regrets and guilt.

And yet that same regret and guilt seemed to ease around Harry. They seem to be washed away by the beautiful hybrid’s comforting touch, his tender glances, and his compassionate words.

_For you know once even I was a little child,_  
 _and I was afraid,_  
 _but a gentle someone always came_  
 _to dry all my tears,_  
 _trade sweet sleep for fears,_  
 _and to give a kiss goodnight._

John opened his eyes, aware that he was crying, and he felt as though with every tear which trailed down his cheeks a little piece of the burden he carried, a part of regret and guilt he lived with vanished into remembrance.

With every heartfelt word which rolled off of Harry’s perfect lips as he sang the lovely melody, John’s heart grew lighter, and the weariness which weighed his soul down turned to a comforting warmth.

_And I hope that you’ll know,_  
 _that nature is so,_  
 _this same rain that draws you near me_  
 _falls on rivers and land,_  
 _on forests and sand,_  
 _makes the beautiful world that you see_  
 _in the morning._

_Everything’s fine in the morning._  
 _The rain will be gone in the morning._  
 _But I’ll still be here in the morning. (3)_

Thinking that he was unnoticed John made his way to his room, feeling about ready to hit the sack, unaware of a pair of soulful eyes gazing at his back before he walked out of sight.

A small smile tilted lush, cupid bow lips as viridian orbs gazed down at Stiles’ sleeping face. “Maybe you are right, young hawk,” Harry whispered, caressing Stiles’ cheek with the back of his fingers, heart fluttering when Stiles sighed and nuzzled closer to him. “Maybe I have finally found a place for myself.”

**cut**

“Stop worrying. John will be fine,” Harry looked up at Lydia, her words not helping him at all. She must have seen it on his face because she huffed and rolled her eyes, drawing a small smile to Harry’s lips.

“I am sorry, young Banshee. I just can’t help but worry,” he admitted and Lydia frowned at him thoughtfully.

“John is a good sheriff and a good cop,” she spoke with certainty. “And besides, he didn’t go alone. There are other good cops with him, and Derek is following them from a safe distance. If anything goes wrong he’ll be there to help John.”

Harry swallowed and tried to relax in the armchair, knowing that Lydia was right, but unable to accept it.

John had gathered a team after Lydia helped him solve the case, and now they were surrounding the murderer to take him in.

It didn’t help that Scott, Isaac, Kira and Stiles were out as well since another Pack entered their territory. They went to meet up with the Pack to make sure that they were made aware that Beacon Hills was claimed territory - _private property_ , Stiles had said and glanced at Derek making Harry think it was some sort of inside joke, especially when Derek huffed and Scott rolled his eyes in amusement. Mellissa was working the night shift and Lydia volunteered to stay with Harry, since no one was willing to leave the hybrid alone while they were technically fighting on two fronts.

Harry would have offered to go with either of the two groups, but hearing their thoughts, hearing how they were all worried about him and how they wished him to stay there where it was safe, he went against his hero-complex and stayed behind.

Suffice to say he was slowly regretting that decision.

“Do you want something to drink? I’m going to get something to drink,” he blurted out making Lydia roll her eyes as he all but tripped on his way to the liquor cabinet and took the bottle of whiskey John had in his stash, his hands trembling as he poured some in a glass.

As he turned around to returned to the armchair, he felt as though he was drenched in cold water.

Everything seemed to still, time seemed to linger as both he and Lydia stopped breathing and the glass slipped out of Harry’s hand. It appeared as though it fell in slow motion, the glass shattering on the ground sounding like a gunshot.

In the next moment Lydia screamed.

Harry ran out of the house and onto the street, and if anyone was out there they would have seen a pair of beautiful emerald wings tearing out of Harry’s back as he soared into the sky.

**cut**

“Stiles!!!” Scott roared in horror and rage as Kira killed the last Beta and Isaac tore the head off of another one, the Alpha of the hostile Pack grinning at them, his clawed hand buried deep in Stiles’ stomach.

Whiskey colored eyes were full of pain even though Stiles fought not to scream.

“I’ll kill every single one of you!!” The lone Alpha screamed in rage as he tore his claws out of Stiles and threw the teen to the side, but before he could charge at Kira who was closest to him, a black blur landed between him and the Kitsune, and Scott, Isaac and Kira froze in their places while the Alpha stared at the winged creature in horror.

“Harry,” Scott breathed out in shock as the magnificent wings pulled into Harry’s back leaving behind nothing but tears in Harry’s shirt through which they could see the tattoo of folded wings on Harry’s back.

It obviously wasn’t just a tattoo though.

“What - what _are_ you?!” The Alpha took a frightened step back, facing against Harry who looked nothing like himself.

There was no whites in his pure emerald eyes nor pupils, lips were thinner and showed sharp teeth, barred in a clear threat, and usually blunt nails turned into sharp claws.

 _“You won’t harm them,”_ Harry spoke in a hissing, distorted voice, fury rolling off of him in waves. _“You won’t touch any of them!!”_

It was over in a matter of minutes. The Alpha tried to run, but Harry was on him within a second, the Alpha’s head flying through the air as the lifeless body hit the ground, head following with a resonating thud.

Before Scott, Isaac or Kira could move, Harry was already running towards Stiles, features back to normal, and the hybrid fell on his knees beside the human teen, pain and horror darkening his eyes as tears trailed down his cheeks.

“H-Harry…”

“Don’t - don’t speak,” Harry stuttered out as he tenderly cradled Stiles to his chest, looking at the gapping wound in Stiles’ stomach. “Oh, Merlin!” He whispered and looked at Stiles face left hand covering his lips as Stiles tried to smile for him.

“It’s - it’s okay…” Stiles choked out and Harry shook his head letting go of a long breath.

“No,” he whispered as he lowered his hand and covered Stiles’ wound with it, “it’s not okay, but it will be. It will be,” he promised and Stiles frowned at him, glancing down in confusion.

Scott, Isaac and Kira approached them warily, eyes widening when they realized what was going on.

The legends of phoenixes were the same in every dimension.

They could carry an immense load, both emotional and physical.

Their songs could encourage and heal, or strike fear in the hearts of the wicked.

And their tears could heal whatever injury.

Stiles stared in amazement as the wound on his stomach slowly closed itself, leaving behind only smudges of blood. Not even a scar remained.

 _But he didn’t,_ he thought only to stop when he realized that when Harry covered his lips with his hand, tears must have gathered on it which he then wiped on Stiles’ wound.

Stiles looked up at Harry, feeling drained and tired but awake enough.

“How did you…”

“Lydia screamed,” Harry interrupted him in a raspy, strained voice, tears still streaming down pale cheeks, “and I felt it.” Stiles’ eyes widened when Harry cried harder, and not even thinking about it, the human lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Harry, shivering when the hybrid hugged him tightly, burying his face in Stiles’ neck, breathing in his scent and reassuring himself that Stiles was alive.

Scott, Isaac and Kira exchanged relieved glances before looking at Harry and Stiles again.

Everything ended up alright.

**cut**

John came home, tired, drained, but uninjured, although worried out of his mind with Derek in tow. The two walked into the living room of the Stilinski household breathing a sigh of relief when they found everyone waiting there for them.

“Dad,” Stiles was on his feet in a second, running to envelop John into a firm hug. John looked at Harry in confusion although he had his arms wrapped around Stiles as well, and the hybrid just shook his head with a small, relieved smile on his face.

Stiles moved back and smiled at John, whiskey colored eyes glancing over the sheriff in search for injuries only to find none, and when John smiled at his son reassuringly, Stiles moved on to hug Derek firmly.

“What happened?” John asked.

“We’ll leave that for another time,” Harry answered as he stood up and smiled reassuringly when John frowned in worry. “We are all alright. Now, I suggest that everyone goes home. We’ve had a stressful evening and we all need rest.”

“I’ll say. Come on, Lyds. I’ll take you home,” Isaac said and the two left with Lydia shooting a grateful glance at Harry who smiled at her.

“Let’s go, Kira. I’m sure mom won’t have anything against you staying for the night,” Scott smiled at the Kitsune and she nodded tiredly, the two leaving after Isaac and Lydia.

“Dad, can Derek stay the night?” Stiles asked and John nodded with a small smile, while Derek stared at Harry who merely shook his head.

Harry knew Derek could smell the blood on Stiles and he was sure the human teen would tell Derek everything the moment they were alone.

John didn’t need to know that he almost lost his son. He would only worry needlessly.

“Rest well,” John said.

“You too,” Derek answered before he and Stiles left up the stairs, leaving John and Harry alone.

The sheriff looked at Harry who approached him slowly, a small smile gracing perfect lips. “You already know how everything went,” John said with a wry smile and Harry nodded, coming to stand right in front of John, eyes taking in the human’s disheveled appearance.

“We’re all alright. That’s all that matters,” Harry spoke in a subdued voice and John frowned, reflexively placing his hands on Harry’s arms when the smaller man bowed his head as though he was avoiding John’s searching gaze.

“Harry, is something wrong?” John asked and Harry shook his head, taking a small step closer to John.

“I just - I just need…”

John froze when Harry all but threw himself at him, wrapping trembling arms around John’s waist and burying his face in John’s chest. John didn’t need to see to know Harry was crying.

Letting go of the breath which he was unconsciously holding, John wrapped his arms around Harry, hiding his face in Harry’s velvety, black hair, breathing in his unique scent. Whatever happened must have really shaken Harry, because for the month Harry has been living with them John saw him this distressed only when he spoke of his past.

They were all alright, so John wouldn’t ask, but he had a feeling that they almost lost someone. He knew no other reason why Harry would be so out of it.

“Hey,” he whispered and moved back a bit, rubbing Harry’s arms comfortingly as he bowed down to smile for the smaller man. “Everything’s alright, right?”

Harry laughed breathlessly as he moved back to wipe his tears away with his hands, doing his best to smile at John. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“It’s alright,” John assured him, cupping Harry’s face between warm, big hands to wipe away the few tears which escaped Harry’s beautiful eyes even though he tried hard to stop crying. “I don’t mind. I could never mind.”

Harry looked into his eyes and John knew that he was projecting his thoughts on Harry again, because first he saw worry fill those amazing orbs as John remembered how he and his team entered the warehouse the murderer was hiding in, and how they were surprised by several clever traps the maniac constructed.

He remembered how he was separated from his team and how the murderer came after him, almost managing to shoot him and instead making the old wooden wall crumble all over John, trapping him under a few rotten, wooden pillars.

John saw Harry’s eyes widen when the sheriff remembered how the only thing he could think about as the murderer approached him with the gun aimed at John’s head was how much he regretted not telling Stiles one last time that he loved him, and…

And how much he regretted not telling Harry that he was falling in love with him at neck-breaking speed, not telling the beautiful creature that he already loved him so, so much, and that he _could_ hope for his Mate to love him, to _want_ him, because if John could fall in love with him so easily, anyone could.

“John…”

When Deputy Parrish appeared behind the murderer and shot him before John could meet his end, the sheriff felt elated and relieved, although the first thought that came to him after everything was over and done with, and the criminal was behind bars was that he couldn’t love Harry because the beautiful creature _had_ a Mate.

“Oh, John,” Harry whispered, and John was pulled out of his thoughts when Harry’s small, trembling hands cupped his stubbled face, “How could you ever want me?”

John stopped breathing and his eyes widened when realization hit him like a ton of bricks while fresh tears filled Harry’s eyes, and John could swear sorrowful, yet hopeful trills were escaping those perfect lips.

“How could I not?” John answered in a broken, heavy voice, and those perfect, cupid-bow lips tilted up into a breathtaking smile. “How could I not?”

And with that John leaned in and kissed Harry, humming when the smaller man kissed him back with just as much love and passion, the small, slender body flattening against John’s stronger frame as though seeking his warmth and comfort, reassurance that John truly wanted him.

John could hardly distinguish his feelings from Harry, because the half-phoenix was projecting so many feelings the human was overwhelmed with them, but John could take it all and so much more.

“How could I not want you?” He whispered as he pulled Harry as close to himself as he could.

How could he not want someone so strong, so smart and so beautiful, someone who suffered so much, lived through betrayal and pain and remained pure and good throughout everything. How could he not love someone like Harry, who despite everything he suffered took no time at all to care for John, for Stiles, and the whole Pack, who opened his heart even though people from his world took it, broke it and stomped on it, using him and abusing him even though he deserved none of it?

How could he not love Harry, when he was so beautiful both inside and out?

How could he not love Harry, when the hybrid loved him so much?

By all rights, Harry should have ran away from them. After suffering so much, Harry should have disappeared the moment he was healed. He should have been afraid of them, should have been afraid of _John_ , because John was sure the beautiful creature could see that John was not as pure and as good as Harry was. Harry should be able to see clearly into John’s mind.

If anyone should doubt themselves it should be John, because he was sure Harry knew how much he blamed himself for Claudia’s fate, how he hurt Stiles in his grief, how he pulled away and surrendered to alcohol, not knowing how to handle the guilt.

John should be the one afraid that Harry wouldn’t want him, not the other way around, because John was only human, and humans were not good in any way. Harry experienced that on his own skin. He was enslaved, robbed off of his will, used and abused, _raped_ and heaven knows what else.

John would never hurt him like that, but he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t hurt him either.

_Oh, because you never tried_  
 _To bow my will or break my pride,_  
 _And nothing of the cave-man made_  
 _You want to keep me half afraid,_  
 _Nor ever with a conquering air_  
 _You thought to draw me unaware --_  
 _Take me, for I love you more_  
 _Than I ever loved before._

John felt tears fill his eyes as Harry sang in a voice not louder than the wind whispering through green canopies of a forest, as Harry’s feelings washed over him.

Love, gratefulness, desire, comfort, belief, trust and so much more enveloped John like a pair of loving wings, so unlike the feelings John felt the first two times he heard Harry sing.

Any doubts John had in his heart vanished as Harry held him tight, singing of his happy surrender.

And John let go.

He finally let go.

_And since the body’s maidenhood_  
 _Alone were neither rare nor good_  
 _Unless with it I gave to you_  
 _A spirit still untrammeled, too,_  
 _Take my dreams and take my mind_  
 _That were masterless as wind;_  
 _And “Master!” I shall say to you_  
 _Since you never asked me to. (4)_

John moved back only to press his lips against Harry’s in a loving, tender touch, letting go of a wavering breath when Harry pressed against him, kissing him back just as lovingly.

“Come, John,” Harry whispered as he moved back, and the sheriff followed him in a trance-like state. “You are tired, and you need to rest. We have time.”

John was hardly aware of them climbing the stairs coming to a stop in front of Harry’s bedroom when Harry climbed to his tiptoes to kiss John again, somehow managing to shake John out of the trance-like state he was in.

“Will you be alright?” John asked, surprised at how weak his voice sounded.

“I will be. I am,” Harry answered and John managed to smile. “Good night, John. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” John murmured distractedly and Harry smirked as he closed the door of his room after entering.

John shook his head, trying to chase the daze away but failing, and just as he made his way towards the room he heard something that awakened his mind and filled his body with strength and warmth.

_Until I lose my soul and lie_  
 _Blind to the beauty of the earth,_  
 _Deaf though shouting wind goes by,_  
 _Dumb in a storm of mirth;_

_Until my heart is quenched at length_  
 _And I have left the land of men,_  
 _Oh, let me love with all my strength_  
 _Careless if I am loved again. (5)_

**cut**

Stiles and Derek walked into the kitchen sharing a smile when they found Harry puttering around it, humming happily as he prepared breakfast for them, the scent of fresh coffee, eggs, bacon and home made pastries filling the air.

“Good morning,” he sang when he noticed Derek and Stiles, turning around to place the plates with eggs and bacon on the already set table.

“Good morning! You’re in an awfully good mood,” Stiles teased as he and Derek took seats and Harry laughed happily.

“I know! I just can’t help it,” the half-phoenix chirped and Stiles and Derek exchanged happy smiles.

“Morning,” John walked into the kitchen looking well rested and standing proud, and the two younger man raised eyebrows when Harry pecked John’s lips in passing, making his way towards the fridge while the sheriff took a seat at the table. “This looks amazing,” John commented, shooting a teasingly warning glare at Stiles who grinned brightly while Derek shook his head with a smirk gracing his features.

“It’s just bacon and eggs, John, there’s hardly anything amazing about that,” Harry drawled teasingly as he took a seat after placing a pitcher of orange juice in the middle of the table.

“Right,” John muttered with an amused smirk and Harry winked at him.

“Okay, love-birds, tone it down a bit,” Stiles teased and Harry smiled brightly at him while John shot him a glare, and Derek rolled his eyes when Stiles stuck his tongue out at his dad.

“Harry, do you have anything planned for today?” John asked as they dug into breakfast.

“Not really. I thought I’d entertain myself by tending to that thing you call garden in the back. If I put up strong enough notice-me-not charms around the garden no one will see me working some magic to make something of it while you are at work and Stiles is at school.”

John winced remembering that their back garden was practically turned into a scrap yard ever since Claudia grew too weak to tend to it, and neither he nor Stiles knew enough about gardening to take it up after she died.

“Won’t our neighbors wonder what happened if our back yard suddenly turned into the Garden of Eden?” Stiles drawled teasingly and Harry tsked.

“I don’t intend to turn it into the _Garden of Eden_. I just intend to clean it all up and prepare the earth for spring. It’s already warm enough for some of the plants to grow, and I thought it would be great if we had a garden to sit in during the weekends or whenever,” the hybrid answered and Stiles grinned.

“It _would_ be great if we had someplace where we could barbeque sometimes. Scott’s place is too small to house all of us, Lydia’s mom is a prune when it comes to housing parties, and Isaac lives with Derek in their loft, and I don’t think Kira’s parents would be overjoyed if she brought a werewolf Pack home, their tolerance for us notwithstanding,” Stiles blurted out.

“As long as you don’t tire yourself out while doing it, I’m all for it,” John told Harry who smiled at him brightly. “Oh, and Derek, I’ve finally gotten your papers. Congratulations, son, from today forward you’re a new Deputy of Beacon Hills County.”

“What?!” Stiles piped out to everyone’s amusement, staring at Derek with wide eyes full of shock.

“I didn’t want to tell you anything because John and I weren’t sure it would work since I never finished the Police Academy…”

“I didn’t even _know_ you went to the Police Academy!” Stiles cried out and Derek winced, shooting Stiles an apologetic smile.

“It never came up,” he offered as an explanation, and while Stiles spluttered for an answer, Harry and John laughed at them.

“Don’t laugh at me! You knew, didn’t you?!” Stiles accused Harry who shrugged and took a sip of juice.

“Of course I knew, Séaghdha, and besides, Derek and your father would have told you if they knew everything would turn out alright. And, as a matter of fact, I am quite happy that Derek will be working with your dad.”

“I know what you mean,” Stiles muttered and huffed, calming down a bit. “So you managed to take care of everything?”

“Yep!” John grinned and Derek shot him a grateful smile. “Derek and I will be working together from tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” Harry said and smiled at John, “and as for your question, I would love to go to dinner with you today.”

It was John’s turn to splutter while the others laughed, and a few seconds later John only shook his head and smiled.

“You’ve read my thoughts again, didn’t you,” he stated and Harry hummed, patting John’s forearm as he stood up to gather the dirty dishes.

“You were projecting, love.” John huffed and stood up. “Now go before you’re late to work, and Stiles, _please_ stop imagining Derek in a uniform. It makes me quite uncomfortable.”

“I’ll be going now!!” Stiles blushed furiously, running out of the kitchen remembering in the last second to grab his backpack on his way out, and moments later they heard his trusty Jeep splutter to life before he drove out on the road.

“He completely forgot that he was supposed to drive me home,” Derek muttered in bemusement, and John chuckled.

“Come on, I’ll drop you off on my way to work,” he offered as he walked over to Harry to kiss him. “See you later.”

“Take care, both of you,” Harry wished as the two left, leaving him alone in the house.

Harry took a deep breath as he looked around the kitchen and snapped his fingers, leaving everything pristine clean.

“Now, to brave that so called _garden_.”

**cut**

Harry took a deep breath and breathed out slowly before looking to the side at John who smiled before taking Harry’s left hand in his right and bringing it to his lips, kissing Harry’s knuckles and resting their joined hands on his thigh, eyes never leaving the road.

Three months passed since Harry literally fell out of the sky and into John’s life. They have been dating for two months now, which was quite strange since Harry lived with them. Stiles couldn’t stop laughing at the fact that John still _picked Harry up_ in front of what used to be the guestroom and was now called Harry’s room, and left the hybrid in front of it with a kiss good night and ‘see you in the morning’ every time they’d come home from a date.

While the Pack found it amusing, John and Harry enjoyed it. It brought a semblance of so called normalcy into their lives, and neither was in a rush. Harry was now a firm part of the Pack, helping them when a coven of vampires strayed onto their territory a month ago, and just a few days back when they dealt with a vengeful spirit for the first time. Just six weeks ago Harry started working in the local library, and everyone could see that he enjoyed it.

Harry has been the center of town gossip for quite a while now since neither he nor John were willing to hide the fact that they were together.

The most fascinating rumor they’ve heard said that Harry was John’s long lost lover and that John left him to be with Claudia because he was afraid that society would ostracize them because they were gay, and that Harry came back now so many years after Claudia died to try and rekindle the old love they had.

No one knew where the rumor came from, and no one cared. There were even rumors that Harry was actually someone else and that he was under witness protection, pretending to be with John because he was the sheriff.

Those who mattered knew the truth, and they only laughed at the rumors when they’d hear a new version.

John let go of Harry’s hand when they parked in front of the house, and they got out of the car, John waiting for Harry to walk over to him before they entered the empty house together.

It was the night of the full moon, and the whole Pack was in the forest, which meant Harry and John were for once completely alone, since Stiles wouldn’t come home before dawn.

Comfortable silence reigned over them as they entered the house, and John helped Harry out of the light summer jacket he wore.

“Do you want something to drink? I could go for a glass of whiskey,” Harry offered and John smiled at him as he took off his own jacket.

“I’d like one, thank you,” he answered and both walked into the living room with Harry going for the liquor cabinet while John took a seat on the couch and turned the TV on, settling on reruns of some show he didn’t really follow.

John smiled at Harry when the emerald eyed beauty took a seat beside him and offered a glass to him, and John accepted it before he draped an arm over Harry’s shoulders as the smaller man nuzzled against him, both relaxing on the comfortable couch.

They watched the show in silence, a smile tugging on John’s lips at the soft trills escaping Harry, sounding much like purring, when John started to brush his fingers through Harry’s hair. He leaned in to kiss the top of Harry’s head before he nudged the smaller man to sit up, placing his empty glass on the table, taking Harry’s as well.

“Ready for bed?” John asked and Harry smiled at him lovingly, leaning in to press a loving kiss against John’s lips.

“Sure.”

John turned off the TV and they made their way up the stairs, hands clasped between them. They reached the door leading to Harry’s room only for John’s eyes to widen when Harry tugged on his hand and kept walking until they came to John’s room, and the hybrid looked up at John.

Love, desire and passion washed over John, and the human suddenly felt warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach.

“Are you…”

“Yes, John,” Harry interrupted him in a deep, strained voice, placing his free hand flat on John’s chest before leaning up to kiss the sheriff, tongue peaking out to trace the seam of John’s bottom lip. “I’m sure.”

Feeling dazed and overwhelmed by both his and Harry’s feelings, John led Harry into his bedroom, eyes never losing contact with Harry’s darkening, enchanting orbs.

They reached the bed and Harry climbed on it, kneeling in front of John, and the human stood in front of him, raising his hands to cup Harry’s face between them pulling him into a deep, loving kiss while Harry’s hands strayed to John’s trousers, pulling his button up shirt out of them, fingers passing teasingly above the waistband before they started tugging the buttons out of their holes.

John lowered his hands to Harry’s shoulders as he nibbled on a lush bottom lip, trembling at the soft trills which were escaping Harry’s lips. He settled his hands on Harry’s waist just as Harry popped the last button, and they broke the kiss so that John could tug Harry’s shirt off of him. Once the piece of clothing touched the ground, Harry placed his hands flat on John’s chest, feeling the other man’s eyes taking him in, warm hands settling on Harry’s waist.

Harry slid his hands under John’s shirt and pushed it off of John’s shoulders, biting into his bottom lips when John’s torso was revealed to his hungry eyes. For a man in his late forties John looked absolutely amazing, still strong and leanly muscled.

Harry looked into John’s eyes again when the man cupped his face making him raise his head, and a smile tilted Harry’s lips at the tenderness and love he could see in those bright green robs.

“I love you, Harry James Potter,” John murmured as he caressed Harry’s blushing cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you too, Jonathan Stilinski,” Harry answered in a breathless whisper, and John leaned in to kiss him.

Parting from John, Harry moved back on the bed sitting down and parting his legs so John could settle between them. Bracing his weight on his forearms, framing Harry’s head, John kissed his soon to be lover just as he rolled his hips down against Harry, letting go of a guttural moan when Harry gasped and those slightly rounded hips twitched up to meet John’s, making the sheriff feel Harry’s own arousal, even though it wasn’t needed.

Harry’s feelings were washing over him in unsteady waves, enhancing his own passion and desire.

John kissed down Harry’s chin and neck, moving lower until he wrapped his lips around one already hardened nipple, slipping his left hand down Harry’s neck and chest until he tweaked the other nipple with his fingers, drawing a surprised, pleasurable gasp from Harry, making him arch up into John’s touch.

“John!” The way his name rolled off of Harry’s lips in a breathless gasp made John shiver, and he made his way lower, dragging his hands down Harry’s sides until he reached the waistband of Harry’s trousers.

He did quick work of the button and zipper, glancing up at Harry who nodded at John and raised his hips a bit so that John could tug his trousers and briefs off of him.

John swallowed audibly as he took the clothes off of Harry, slipping the socks off of Harry’s small feet before his eyes trailed up Harry’s body, trustingly revealed to him.

“You’re a bit over dressed for the occasion, Jonathan,” Harry spoke in a raspy, strained voice, and John blushed a bit, feeling like a fumbling virgin as he hurried to take the rest of his clothes off. He looked at Harry when the hybrid moved and found those beautiful orbs taking all of him in with love and lust shining in their depths.

John climbed the bed quickly, slamming his lips over Harry and moaning at Harry’s unique taste mixed with the aroma of whiskey, groaning when they lied down on the bed, their erections rubbing against one another as John ground down against Harry.

“Tell me if I hurt you, alright?” John blurted out, already feeling breathless and lightheaded.

“You won’t,” Harry answered with certainty which left John quite apprehensive. Deceivingly delicate hands settled on John’s shoulders, fingers brushing the collarbones almost reverently, and John let go of the breath he was holding, bowing his head to kiss Harry lovingly, and moaning into Harry’s mouth when Harry rolled his hips. “Make love to me, John,” he asked, and John wouldn’t have been able to refuse him even if he tried.

Moving back to kneel between Harry’s legs, John braced his weight on his left hand trailing the right down the middle of Harry’s torso, watching in fascination as muscles twitched under his hand. He looked at Harry’s face when he took the hybrid’s hard cock into his hand, shivering and giving the member a slow tug when Harry’s eyes slipped closed and a moan rolled off of lush lips, delicate hands grabbing fistfuls of silky covers.

Feeling encouraged, John moved back and lied down between Harry’s legs. He snuck his left arm under Harry’s right thigh, taking a firm hold of Harry’s hip, still pumping Harry’s cock. He leaned in and tentatively licked the head of Harry’s warm, hard sex, his own member twitching when Harry let go of a breathless gasp, and his right hand fisted in John’s short hair.

Smirking a little, John slowly took the head of Harry’s cock into his mouth, sucking on it and tasting the pre-come moaning at the bitter-sweet taste. Relaxing his throat, John started to bob his head up and down, lowering his hand to gently roll Harry’s sack before going lower only to still after his fingers brushed against Harry’s entrance finding wetness there that shouldn’t be possible, making him move back and Harry’s hand slip from his hair.

“Harry?” He climbed over the smaller man, leaning on his hands, worry gripping his heart when he saw a heavy blush covering Harry’s cheeks as the hybrid looked to the side. “Harry, you know I’m not angry or…”

“Phoenixes don’t have genders,” Harry whispered and John held his breath. Harry must have read his thoughts again because he looked up at him, and John’s heart clenched when he saw fear and worry in those amazing viridian eyes. “Yes, that’s normal for me, John, and - and yes,” he hesitated, swallowing audibly and looking anywhere but at the human, “I - I can have children. All hybrids can.”

John swallowed and licked his lips, feeling like laughing when Harry looked into his eyes, his own wide with surprise and shock.

“Do I need to say it out loud?” John whispered breathlessly, voice laced with amusement and amazement as he lowered to lean on his elbows, pressing his lips against Harry’s. “This is a surprise, but it is definitely _not_ unwanted or unwelcome. I won’t reject you. I could _never_ reject you, or think that you’re a freak,” he spoke against Harry’s lips, love and adoration washing over him in waves. “Stiles might actually go speechless when we tell him that he’ll be a brother one day though,” that startled a laugh out of Harry and John followed with his own huffing laugh, moving back a bit to look into Harry’s eyes. “That aside, do you want to…”

“No,” Harry interrupted him and shook his head. “It’s not my heat cycle yet so I won’t end up pregnant now.” John cocked an eyebrow at that.

“Heat cycle? That’s a real thing?” Harry laughed again, nodding his head.

“Yeah. Comes around every august and lasts for about three weeks. You’ll need to take a vacation,” _‘if you still want me’_ was left unsaid, but somehow John heard it.

Deciding against saying anything, John simply kissed Harry deeply, nuzzling his nose against the hybrid’s, “You’re amazing, Harry,” he whispered, hearing Harry swallow as he nibbled on that thin neck.

He kissed and nipped down Harry’s chest, before he reached Harry’s proud member again. Giving it a kitty lick, John settled between Harry’s legs again, and he glanced up when he pressed two fingers against Harry’s entrance. Looking for any signs of discomfort, John circled the ring of muscle with a butterfly touch before slowly pushing one finger in, biting into his bottom lip when the tight wet heat of Harry’s channel clamped down on his fingers and Harry moaned, arching off of the bed in pleasure.

John littered kisses over Harry’s inner thighs, occasionally mouthing and licking Harry’s weeping cock as he slowly moved his fingers in and out of Harry, curling them in search of the bundle of nerves which would make Harry see stars.

When Harry arched his torso almost completely off of the bed, letting go of a surprised, choked up cry, John knew he found what he was searching for and he pulled his fingers out of Harry, climbing over him as he took a hold of his until then neglected length, aligning it with Harry’s entrance. He kissed Harry at the same time as he pushed into that tight heat, almost coming right away when Harry’s pleasure washed over him, both of them moaning and stilling once John was completely sheathed inside Harry.

John opened his eyes, breath hitching in his lungs when he saw Harry with his head thrown back with an expression of complete and utter bliss on his beautiful face. Groaning when he felt Harry’s fingers dig into the muscles of his back, John pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock inside Harry, before he pushed in slowly, bracing his weight on his hands on either side of Harry’s shoulders, head falling forward and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut in concentration.

“John - faster - I - I need…”

“Damn it, Harry,” John breathed out and quickened the pace, changing the direction with each thrust until Harry cried out in pleasure, hands settling on John’s waist while he hooked his legs on John’s hips.

John knew he was close. He could feel every muscle in his body coiling, but he wanted to make Harry come first.

“John, need to…” John looked in Harry’s eyes, and in the next moment he found himself on his back with Harry straddling him, but before he could do anything, Harry threw his head back, lips parting without a sound escaping him as his orgasm washed over him, and John’s eyes widened when a pair of beautiful wings opened behind Harry, folding over them because they reached the ceiling, and John’s own orgasm surprised him, his hips twitching frantically as he filled Harry with his seed.

Harry collapsed on top of John boneless and sated, and through the waves of pleasure still coursing through his veins, John watched Harry’s wings disappear into his back, leaving behind the amazing tattoo.

Although his limbs were heavy John raised his hands to trace the tattoo of the folded wings on Harry’s back, marveling at the feeling of soft feathers contrasting sharply with the feel of Harry’s warm skin.

“Didn’t know that would happen,” Harry mumbled all but purring as John trailed his fingers over his back.

“They are beautiful,” John murmured and Harry raised his head to look at him with a loving smile.

“Thank you, John,” Harry kissed him lovingly before he tried to move off of John, but the human placed his hands on Harry’s waist and stopped him.

“Just a while more,” he asked and Harry’s lips tilted up, eyes glimmering with love and warmth. He lied back down, tucking his head under John’s chin, trilling contently when John wrapped his arms around him.

John sighed and kissed the top of Harry’s head, laughing when Harry actually _purred_.

“Are you a bird or a cat?” John drawled teasingly and Harry laughed.

“I’m yours, that’s what I am,” John tightened his hold on Harry at those words before settling his head on the pillow. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” John answered, and soon enough they fell asleep in each others arms, happier than they’ve ever been in their lives.

**cut**

(1) _But Not To Me,_ Sara Teasdale  
(2) _I know why the caged bird sings,_ Maya Angelou  
(3) _Lullaby For A Stormy Night,_ written by Vienna Teng, published by LYRICS © CHRYSALIS MUSIC OBO SOLTRUNA MUSIC  
(4) _Because,_ Sara Teasdale  
(5) _A Prayer,_ Sara Teasdale

**cut**

**I'm on a roll today. :D  
**

**Did you like it?**

**Please, tell me what you think.**

**All my love,  
Ms. Yuki. **


End file.
